


The Very Best of Terms

by Llaeyro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bi!Remus, Bisexual Character, Blow Jobs, Come Marking, Community: rs_small_gifts, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Fucking, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mentions of Het Sex, Mentions of Tonks gender!fuck, Mentions of misuse of metamorphmagus abilities, Multi, Nymphadora Tonks Lives, Polyamory, Post Hogwarts AU, Power Dynamics, Queer Character, Queer!Sirius, Queer!Tonks, Remus Lupin Lives, Rimming, Sirius Black Lives, Switching, Teddy is awesome, They live AU, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-23 16:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13193583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llaeyro/pseuds/Llaeyro
Summary: Remus, Sirius and Tonks reflect on their unique family situation.





	The Very Best of Terms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RuinsPlume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuinsPlume/gifts).



> This is my entry for the 2017 Remus/Sirius Small_Gifts fest. I was inspired by all three of Plume's wishes, which were 'thumbing our noses at tradition', 'growing old together' and 'say please', as well as her wild card challenge: 'Tonks, Remus and Sirius raise Teddy together, with R/S and Tonks on the very best of terms--whatever that means to you ;-)'
> 
>  
> 
> [Read on DW](https://small-gifts.dreamwidth.org/244425.html)

**Remus**

She calls me, and I stand before her armchair, by the fireplace in our bedroom. The fire is burning low, not really supplementing the sconces on the wall but bringing just a little warmth to combat the mid-autumn chill. She calls him, commands him, and he roughly undresses me. The neck of my top catches against my chin, there is the sound of stitching giving way as he tugs off my pants and I feel lust surging in my gut. She is setting the tone for the evening, and I could not be happier. 

I love to please her.

Truly, I am the luckiest man alive. I had never let myself dream of this life. At times I still expect to wake up and discover that the last fifteen years were nothing but a fevered coma-dream, brought on by some errant curse or another. I know that this is real, however. My dreams have never been so kind to me.

She shouldn’t look imposing, legs tucked under her in her ridiculous, yellow-leather wing chair with her short black hair. I suppose she doesn’t, really. Her power over me — over both of us — isn’t at all physical, it runs much deeper. I would wrestle a graphorn, as the old adage goes. Although, it’s different for Sirius.

It intrigues me, what they have together. They do not have the gentle intimacy that I share with Dora, or the wild passion between Sirius and myself, but they have come to love each other no less. It is a different kind of love, one that straddles a grey area between a strong friendship and something more. Sirius would still call the two of them ‘friends with benefits’, I’m sure, but I know that things go much deeper than that. They simply must do, after sixteen years together. It was difficult for him at first; reluctant to redefine himself yet feeling less and less the gay man he had come to accept himself as. It wasn’t the first time that we had introduced a third participant to the bedroom — it had been rather a frequent occurrence in our post-Hogwarts days. It wasn’t even unusual for the third participant to be a woman, but those particular interactions always went one of a handful of ways. Sirius was quite content to play voyeur, or sometimes director under such circumstances, or to allow her to do the same. Things with Dora had been rather different. _Tonks_ was different. She just seemed to understand how to handle him: when to push, when to morph, when to take the lead and when to watch. It had been apparent from an early stage, to myself at least, that this liaison wouldn’t be as short-lived as the others had been. Well, war outcome permitting, at any rate.

We are both naked now, standing before her. Sirius still has the ability to get hard untouched, although not as easily as he used to, and is already at half mast. I cannot, but the friction from Sirius undressing me has been enough to show the barest hint of interest. She shifts in her seat, elbow on the armrest, chin in her hand. I assume she is deciding what to do with us. I’m feeling bold so I hold out my hands, wrists together in a silent suggestion. She seems eager for Sirius to take charge of me tonight and that will be easier if I’m bound. Apparently, tonight isn’t about easy, as she smirks slowly at me and shakes her head. Instead she tells Sirius to throw me on the bed. I tense up, ready for a fight, even as I smile. It is all too familiar, this power struggle between us. In our early days, at the end of our school years, we were happy enough to explore and take turns leading events but that changed when Sirius returned. We struggled too long, trying to rediscover the spark that we once had instead of embracing the men we had become and what that meant for our relationship. I do not really know precisely what changed. I suspect that all the times Padfoot ran with the wolf had a bearing, and the years Sirius spent hiding in his dog’s body. When it is just the two of us, we both seem to have this overwhelming urge to take control of the other that I very much suspect is down to animal instincts. It seems as though it would be problematic, but the push and pull of it is actually rather exciting. We enjoy the tussle, not knowing how things will turn out but reassured that, whether I win or lose, I will thoroughly enjoy the outcome. 

I am ready, hands open between us, to fend him off but instead he steps in and kisses me. It is soft and tender, but not for long. I open my mouth on a sigh and he takes control, tongue brushing against mine, fingers travelling up my neck and into my hair. I relax a little against him, fingertips digging into the soft bare flesh of his hips. His hand tightens to a fist in my hair and he _pulls_ , leaving me bereft of his lips, head tipped back and throat barred vulnerably, panting for breath. Dora clears her throat, but he will not let me turn to see her. She must give him a look, or gesture because he nods before dragging me towards the bed and pushing me upon it face first. I bring myself up onto my elbows, trying to roll onto my back but he shoves me down with a hard hand between my shoulder blades. I make to try again, but her voice stills me. She coos at me, the way she does only when we are all three together, to be her good boy. I relax into the sheets without any second thought, arching up into the hand exploring my buttocks. Part of me still aches to throw Sirius off, to make him submit and fuck him into the mattress, but a stronger voice keeps me still. Her voice.

She is a wonder, truly. I am thankful that our son takes so much after her. He has my stature, but no one would deny that he has her Hufflepuff heart. Of course, he has picked up a few traits from his other father over the years, much to my equal delight and dismay. Long hair and a leather jacket suit him, but I am very much hoping that his desire to own a motorcycle abates before he is of age.

I try to concentrate on Sirius above me, rather than my aching cock and metaphorically itchy fingers. His right forearm is a constant firm pressure across my shoulders. Her next instruction makes my stomach flip and my body tense involuntarily. I’m not sure how I manage to hear them both chuckle over by own heartbeat thrumming in my ears. They both know what it does to me. They both know the internal struggle that I have over this particular proclivity. 

The bed shifts and dips and Sirius’s foot is next to my head as he reverse-straddles me. He settles down along my back, a heavy and encompassing weight. My cock responds, twitching between my thigh and the bed. I bury my face in the duvet as his hands spread my cheeks, trying to bury my shame. It is too intimate, too dirty, yet I _want_. I feel the tingle of magic down my crease, dipping gently inside me. It’s only a simple cleaning charm, but I can tell it was Dora’s. Somehow my cheeks burn harder at the thought of _her_ touching me there, even in such an indirect way. I can’t continue to overthink things, as wet heat swipes across my hole and sets my nerves alight. All I can think about it how dirty it is yet how _fucking good_ it feels. He tongues me relentlessly, swirling, flicking, probing and I fall apart beneath him, bucking and arching, moaning and whining into the duvet. It is too much and yet not enough. I find myself spreading my legs, a pathetic sound escaping my lips as the welcome pressure of my own thigh leaves my now hard cock.

He runs a single finger along the underside of my cock and I nearly manage to unbalance him. She tells me off, he smacks my arse and I shout my muffled frustration into the duvet. Teeth bite into the soft juncture between my buttocks and thigh and I jerk, head coming up, crying involuntarily into the room. She coos at me again, praising me. She likes to hear me while she watches.

I no longer know what I want. I want to overpower him still, but I also want to crawl between her knees and taste her, let her stroke my hair and utter soft praises. I don’t want him to let go. I want more of his tongue, his fingers, his cock. I know what they want to hear from me, but I’m not there yet. But I need. And so I try.

“More…”

Oh, how I love to please them.

**Sirius**

I fucking love him like this. Merlin, the noises he makes. Don’t get me wrong, I’d prefer to have him on top of me, pressing me into the mattress as he fucks me, slow and deep, but I do love to get him like this, too. It’s a side of him that only the two of us together can bring out. He needs it occasionally, as difficult as he finds it to admit. 

Tonks just seems to know. 

She always has done. What a fucking revelation she’s been. It was just a bit of fun, at first. A little light relief to take our minds off the approaching shitstorm and distract from the fact that we couldn’t quite get back into the swing of things. There was obviously a spark between them two, and I found her fun enough company so I figured we might as well, if she was on board. She’s nice enough to look at — y’know, for a girl — and it certainly helped my own interest that she can spontaneously grow a cock. Although the tits took some getting used to. I know she only kept them to wind me up. We hadn’t really thought about what might happen after the war. We all tried not to, I suppose. Everything was too uncertain.

Then we got her up the duff. Whoops.

We don’t really know which spell failed or who cast it — hell, we didn’t even know which of us was technically the father, although that’s now more than obvious — but it didn’t matter. The three of us created that life and the three of us were going to stick by that life. I made the decision easy, it made more sense for Remus to take ‘official’ parental responsibility. For one, because me and ‘responsibility’ haven’t always been on the best of terms, and for two, Tonks and Moony have more of a… traditional relationship? Urgh, can’t believe I used that dirty word. We put our own slant on tradition around here. Our Teddy doesn’t seem to mind, he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen about his mum and two dads. He told me the other week that he uses it as a sort of barometer of dickishness — language he wouldn’t dream of using around his mum or pops — so that he can filter out those who aren’t worth getting close to. He’s a smart kid. It was no surprise to us that he was a hatstall, but his mother’s heart rightly won out in the end.

When the first veiled plea reluctantly leaves his lips, I look up at her. The illusion of black hair has fallen away, leaving her with her default light brown, flecked now with a few greys. She uses her abilities to reflect her mood, but she doesn’t hide her signs of ageing like I would have expected. I respect that. Not that she needs to, her grey hairs are sparse enough that you can put them down to a trick of the light. She still looks great, but women seem to get hung up on that sort of thing. Well, I say women. I didn’t handle it quite so well. I’m not grey all over like Moony has been for a couple of years, but I’ve evolved beyond just faded around the temples. Moony says it makes me look distinguished. I’m not really sure I believe him but I’m not going to complain with the way he looks at me when he says it. Like he wants to fucking _devour_ me.

She tells me to flip him over, so I raise myself up enough for him to turn. It’s awkward, but I don’t want to give him the chance to wrestle me. The temptation’s too great to let him win. When it’s just the two of us, we always have this struggle for dominance, but it’s not because I want to top. Ninety-three percent of the time, I want to get fucked. I do it just because I get a kick out of it. If he lets me win — and if I win, it _is_ because he let me — then it’s because he needs it. Whether or not he admits that to himself is his own business. He won’t admit that he prefers to come over me, to mark my skin with his scent. Which particularly sucks because those are the dreams that have me waking up hard in the middle of the night. I know it’s the dog in me, but I’ve long given up caring. Moony just goes all sensible and calls it messy and impractical. Luckily we have Tonks to sort us out or we’d drive each other nuts.

He calls out to her, begs her to join us. She won’t, not yet. Dora, he calls her. The only one, besides her parents, who’s ever got away with it. I tried it once. I say to her that I swear ol’ leftie’s still got a knot in it, but she just promises to even me out. 

That’s how things are with me and Tonks. Her and Remus are all hand holding and back rubs and walks through the woods. Whereas we’re more beers and banter and anything competitive. We go out sometimes, play some Muggle pub games or go to this little Muggle ‘Video Game Cafe’ that Harry introduced us to. Tonks prefers the pubs, though. She says it’s for the booze, but I’m pretty sure it’s because I show her up at Call of Duty.

His cock is thick and hot and right underneath my face and I want it. I duck my head but she tuts at me, catching me in the side with a stinging hex. She tells him to spread his legs, calls him _darling_ and I can feel him shudder beneath me before complying. I catch the bottle she throws at me and uncap it, squeezing a little lube onto my fingers. The head of my cock catches against his collarbone as I shift around, trying to find where best to put my elbows. I can feel his hot breath tickling my balls and _Merlin_ I just want to sit on his face. 

His chest is heaving under me, fingers twitching, nails scratching, against my thighs. She tells him to suck me and I angle my hips to help him capture the tip between those familiar thin lips. Oh, _oh_ , but he’s hungry for it. He sucks me right down, tilting his hips up as I run a slick finger across his hole. He’s already a little open from my tongue so I slide one finger in just a few times before working in two. He’s always pretty tight, needs to be stretched more than I do. His mouth pauses on my cock, I feel more than hear him moan, then his tongue is flicking around the head and he starts to take me deep again. It’s hard to raise myself up, away from his mouth, but I do because I know he’s got to swallow at some point or he’s going to start choking on his own saliva. He just needs that brief respite, but then he’s back on me, arching, struggling to get me back in his mouth and I oblige willingly. I could happily come like this, but Tonks wouldn’t let me. She hasn’t got me fingering him open for nothing.

I squeeze a little more lube onto my fingers and give him a third — he takes it so beautifully. He moans, spreads his legs a little more and sucks me harder. His hands come up to my lower back, tugging at me. I know what he wants and Merlin, I want it too, but it isn’t up to me. Not tonight. I look over at her and, fucking hell, she’s naked. She’s still sitting as casually as if she wasn’t, but she hasn’t got a stitch on. I hadn’t even noticed. I wonder how long she’s been like that. She’s all woman right now, something that you can never take for granted with Tonks, and you certainly can’t trust that she’ll stay that way for the duration. She likes to keep us, me in particular, on our toes. I used to find it daunting, never knowing what I was going to get with her. I think I was probably just more confused, though. Trying to fit some sort of label. I don’t let it worry me anymore. We know what works for us, and everyone else can do one.

I pull my fingers from him, wipe them across his thigh just because I know it’ll wind him up. I’m still looking at her and I bite my bottom lip, doing my best well-behaved subby-top face. It’s pleading and earnest and hopeful and promising all at once. At least, that’s what I’m going for. It usually works on her, anyway.

“Can I?”

Oh yes, Tonks just knows.

**Tonks**

I laugh lightly and nod at Sirius. It wasn’t in the plan, but I can see how much they want it. They need this, this directed time together, when all their history and instincts and pack confusion fall by the wayside. Sirius braces his hands on the bed and pushes himself up a little. He rocks his hips gently and I can see the head of his cock rubbing between Remus’s lips. Remus wriggles his shoulders, tips his chin up and pulls again at Sirius’s hips. They’ve found the angle, and Sirius starts to fuck Remus’s mouth in earnest, pulling off now and then to let him swallow. Sometimes he goes a little too deep, an uncomfortable sound tries to escape Remus’s throat, but they don’t stop. Remus’s fingers have gone still on Sirius’s hips, happy with the treatment he’s getting. Sirius throws his head back, long greying hair sweeping over his shoulders, grey eyes meeting mine across the room. He wants permission. He knows he won’t get it. Not yet.

I grin at him cruelly and he drops his gaze in resignation, pulling his cock from Remus’s mouth with a face full of pained regret. He falls to the side, sitting beside Remus while they both catch their breath. Sirius reaches down and gives his bollocks a tug, eyes closed, breathing deeply to try and compose himself. Without warning, Remus launches himself at Sirius, pinning him to the bed, rutting against him while Sirius struggles. I sigh quietly to myself and send a casual stinging hex at Remus’s arse cheek. He whips around to look at me immediately, all guilty-like. I just roll my eyes at him.

These boys of mine, they are strange creatures. 

When things first began, they were too busy trying to recapture what they used to have to realise what was right in front of them. I didn’t know them in the first war, of course. I wasn’t even at Hogwarts yet, but I’ve gathered their relationship was more, well, _classically_ romantic back then. More like what me and Remus had when we first all got together, all starry-eyed and soppy for each other. It’s long since mellowed down to a nice background sense of contentment, rather than that near-constant need for touch and reassurance. Remus has told me that it seemed with Sirius, and still seems, like the passion is still there but somehow the romance is gone or not as grand as it used to be or something. I don’t know what they think romance is, but I see it between them all the time. It’s there when they’re sitting in the living room reading together. Or when Sirius helps Remus with his jumper without needing to be asked, because he hasn’t been able to lift that arm high enough to do it himself since the war. Or when they see our son and give each other a proud and almost disbelieving look that says _we made that_. I’ve shared that look with each and both of them many times over the last fifteen years. Perhaps this romance looks different to what they had before — perhaps it has a different flavour, a different scent — but it’s there and it’s as strong as ever.

I extend a single finger, beckoning Remus to me and he crawls from the bed and crosses the room without a second thought. I nod at the floor and he gets to his knees, not as graceful but just as eager as always. I slowly unfold myself, dropping my feet to the floor, straightening up and spreading my legs. He watches, tongue coming out to wet his lips, but he waits. Such a good boy for me.

I reach out my hand to him and he leans into it, nuzzles against me like an affectionate pet, teasing my fingertips through his thick hair. With both hands on him I tighten my fingers around grey strands, pulling his face between my thighs. He waits still, and I enjoy the moment of anticipation, his hot breath bringing the fact that I’m already a little wet to my attention. When he finally brings his mouth to me, I close my eyes on a long, quiet sigh, letting my head fall back against the leather upholstery. He takes broad, slow strokes, lazy and pleasant with a little kick at the end as he brushes over my clit. I steer his mouth lower and he runs the tip of his tongue around my opening, dipping inside when I cant my hips and scratch my nails against his scalp. He moans against me and I moan back as his hands come up to steady himself on my thighs, parting them just a little more. Sirius clears his throat across the room but I ignore him. He’ll get another turn soon enough.

As great as it feels, Remus’s tongue isn’t enough anymore. I take his left hand from my thigh and he looks up at me as I draw two of his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them, laving them with my tongue, and watch his eyes darken. It’s more than just a hint, I expect I’m a little drier than usual because I’m due on in a couple of days. Remus knows, he already stocked up the biscuit cupboard with chocolate hobnobs today in preparation. I pull my mouth from his fingers and he lingers for a moment, running his thumb gently along my jaw. With a smile, I push him back down and he goes willingly. 

His fingers tease at my entrance before slipping both smoothly inside, his tongue lapping distractingly at my clit. The pace is steady as he finger-fucks me, curling them upward to graze that magic spot. He’s alternating his tongue, licking and flicking and sucking and I could easily come like this. It is tempting, he knows just how to play me. Fuck the plan, it’ll only be my clit that needs a break, the rest of me’s good to carry on. I undulate my hips, grinding against his face and he takes the hint, fucking me faster with fingers and tongue until I tense. Back arched, hands clenched, head back, shout out, toes curled. Breathless, boneless, dazed.

He pulls away and waits, watching me with that pleased yet still hungry expression. I straighten myself up a little and look over to the bed. Sirius is still sitting there, sulking like a told off puppy. I love to tease him. He gets so needy and eager to please when he’s been left out a little while. I wasn’t sure how this was going to work at first, with Sirius. I worried about jealousy, of course, but mostly I worried that he wouldn’t want me. He used to get all funny about being around ‘girls bits’ but he just needed to get used to them, really. I think he’s learnt to enjoy the response he can get from me, more than the act itself. I still indulge him sometimes, let him wank my cock as I ride him, but I don’t have to appear all-man anymore. He’s more content to just take me as I am, as however I feel in that moment. They both are. I never thought I’d find one man so open-minded, never mind two. I know he loves it when I take charge, whether it’s all of us or just me and him. Except when I trounce him on Call of Duty, which is all the time. I swear, he has the coordination of a flobberworm. He’s such a sulker, it’s much less drama to just head up the pub and play a bit of pool or throw some darts.

I smile at him and wave him over. His expression exudes relief and excitement, but his body seems to need a little more persuasion. He’s still hard, but as he moves across the bed to stand I can see the difficulty he’s having. He’s already spent too long on his poor knees. This isn’t going to work the way I thought.

As he comes over, I give Remus a gentle nudge with my knee and nod my head for him to stand. His eyes narrow curiously but he gets up anyway. I reach out, he takes my hands and I lay his upon the armrests, making him bend forward. He smirks at me as he realises, shifting his feet back and apart, presenting himself to Sirius. Sirius doubles back to the bed, grabbing the lube and holding it up to me in query. The hunger on my face must say it all, he uncaps the bottle and quickly lubes his cock, moving to stand behind Remus. I wriggle forward, sitting up tall to take Remus’s face in my hands and kiss him. His tongue is hungry, demanding, possessive, even as his hands stay firmly where I placed them. A small gasp leaves him and I draw back to watch, keeping my hands on his jaw, keeping his head up. 

I love to watch him like this.

His eyes close softly, lips only slightly parted. That will be Sirius’s fingers, just checking that he hasn’t closed up too much. I can tell when Sirius removes his fingers and positions his cock because Remus sags a little and then tenses again. His eyes pop open, mouth wide and gasping for air as he stretches around Sirius’s cock. I scoot forward and wrap my fingers around his flagging erection, kissing and nipping at his neck. He grunts softly as Sirius eases his way in, muscles tense in his wiry arms and legs. He groans, loud and long when Sirius is fully seated, head lolling down against my shoulder. He’s properly hard again now and I sit back, holding his face up again, watching the deep lines across his forehead gradually smooth out as Sirius moves behind him. His eyes are closed, mouth open and his panting is getting heavier, little gasps and moans becoming more frequent. It’s wonderful, watching him like this, seeing the tension leaving him, watching the bliss overtake his features. I kiss him and this time it’s completely different, as it should be. He follows my lead, a little slowly, trying to chase after me when I pull away but Sirius’s hands on his hips keep him in place. I give him my thumb to suck on, which he does so contentedly as my eyes move to Sirius.

He seems torn between watching his cock sink into Remus and watching us, his gaze flicking between the two. His eyes lock on mine as I lower Remus’s mouth to my breast and Sirius bites his lip as Remus sucks at my nipple. He’s close, I can see it.

I stand up suddenly, forcing Remus to straighten up and Sirius’s cock to slip from him. They both groan but I just turn, pulling Remus around and shoving him down into the armchair. Sirius looks confused and a little desperate but lets me drag him into place, standing him between Remus’s legs, shins against the base of the chair. He wilts as I stand beside him and take hold of his cock, stroking him steadily with a firm grip. With my free hand I sweep his hair behind his ear so that I can see him properly. See the crinkles around his eyes, shut tight, brow furrowed, soft gasps escaping his lips. I speed up a little, twisting at the head. Remus sits up, mouth open, leaning in but I can’t stop my hand, Sirius is so close. I manage to balance enough to push Remus back down with a foot on his shoulder. He writhes in the chair in protest, but doesn’t really try to get up again. Sirius’s chest is heaving, his legs starting to shake. I give his arse a little slap and his eyes snap open, looking down at the picture Remus makes. His hair’s a mess, he’s sweaty, his chest is flushed, his cock is weeping, there’s the shine of lube against his thighs and he’s spread out, just _waiting_ for it. Sirius chokes out a cry, surges forward to support himself on the chair and comes, bucking into my fist, painting Remus’s chest and stomach with his release.

Remus is watching me, waiting for the next move. Sirius lowers himself to the floor, landing on his arse with a bit of a bump and an exhausted chuckle. He scoots back, out of the way and I straddle Remus, pushing his cock forward so that I can rub against the underside. His hands come to my waist, rolling his hips up against me. He tries to lift me, change the angle, but I’m not having it. I grab my wand from the chest of drawers and cast the barrier charm. His hand tries to go for his cock, to reposition it, but I intercept before he can get there and press his palm to the armrest. I will ride him, and Sirius will finger him, and we will let him come, but only when he asks for it. He knows this, but still he holds out. I think he likes to hear me say it.

“You know what I want to hear, sweetheart. Say _please_.”

Oh, these boys of mine…

_Fin_


End file.
